I have been thinking a lot about my interaction with MM over the past few days and needed to take a bit of a break from writing. The ideas were swirling around in my head and I was having a difficult time making sense of them. I haven’t talked to MM in 4 days. The last time we spoke, his W found out that we had been speaking, and that he was emailing me, despite her strict instructions to the contrary. They had a physical fight, where she grabbed his phone to see what he had been doing (emailing me, duh), and hit him and pushed into a door, breaking it off its hinges. He didn’t raise a hand to her, dutifully packed his bags and went to stay at a neighbors’ house. He didn’t speak back to her, he didn’t tell her to mind her own business, he didn’t tell her he was leaving her. What he told me was that he was sad. What he told me was that his w called his mother, so when he wished his mother a happy birthday, his mother was angry at him for speaking to me. He changed his facebook profile picture because his mother told him to. Grow up! I asked him that while this had nothing to do with me, if his children fought with each other the way his w treated him, would they have been punished? Would the one who had been hit, been the one to slink away? Did he think that his marriage, or what’s left of it, concerns his mother? Did he call her? Did he think that his w was right to involve her? Were there no boundaries in his life? Was he going to let everyone else decide for him, what he should do, what he will do, what he must do? He didn’t move out; he was thrown out. He didn’t leave his w. He was sad. He asked me to come see him over the weekend and I said no. You want to see me, come to me. He asked me to travel with him this week and I said no. Absolutely not. He asked me to understand that he may not be able to speak to me or email for a while and would that be okay. And I said no, it would not. And yet, he hasn’t called. He hasn’t emailed. I haven’t heard from him. I’m not sad. I understand. I forgive him.
I had dinner with a male friend last night that I’ve known since kindergarten. He was my jacks partner, my card game of spit partner. And he’s so handsome now. He’s so married now, with 5 kids and living all the way across the country. We’ve been in touch on and off since we parted ways scholastically in 1978. There was a period of time that he tried to court me, but I was oblivious to his advances. I was dating my husband at the time and my friend was just too subtle, so I never picked up on it. Over dinner, last night, he told me that he thought that we should have married. Yet we didn’t. There was a pull between us and we kissed. It felt like I had been kissing him my entire life. And he leaned over and said “I feel like we’ve been kissing forever.” I couldn’t stay. Because I really wanted to. Because I would fall in love with him and ask him to leave his wife for me. And he would say no. And I can’t live with the asking or the answer. It was so sad. In the pit of my stomach sad – for a life I should have had, had I not be so oblivious to him; could have had, because he was and has been part of my life forever, and should have had, because in some immutable way, some undefinable way, we were, are and have always been connected. Ah, the one that got away. It was very sad.
MM called me today. I sent him an email, before he was kicked out of his house, telling him that through this all, he never asked me what I was thinking, what I felt, where my head was at. He said that he had read that email so many times that the words were burned into his brain. And he wanted to know. I sent that email a week ago. A fucking week ago. He didn’t call me over the weekend, he didn’t call me when he was ona business trip, he didn’t call me until today, a fucking week later. And wanted to know. But, he couldn’t really talk because he had a meeting in 1/2 hour that he had to prepare for, but he wanted to know. He didn’t want to know. And I asked him what he was thinking – are you deciding whether to stay with your wife or be with me? If I say that I don’t want you to come and be with me, you’re going to stay in your marriage? Are you back in the house? Sleeping in the same bed with her? How’s the sex? Yes, he said, if you don’t want to be with me, I’m going to stay; she loves me and wants to be with me. I asked why he was confusing control for love. (I can’t even breathe.) Why are you sad, I asked him. Why are you feeling like you’re finally being honest to yourself and you’re sad. Why aren’t you feeling better and more confident? I’m sad, he says, for the kids. Bullshit. Enough about laying your garbage at the feet of your children. If, he asks, I move out and come to you, I will be 200 miles from my children to be with you; do you love me? do you want me? If you say, no, I will stay. What should I say? What would you say? What could I say to that? What I said was, once again, darling, I’m not a first choice, I’m a fall back. Once again, I’m not the first choice, I’m the safety net. I should have ended this a year ago; I would have had more choices, opportunities, been less vulnerable; I could have escaped unscathed. Would have, could have, should have.
Are you back in the house? Yes. Are you sleeping in the same bed as her? Yes. Are you fucking her? **Chuckle** There’s no sex. But you’re getting into the same bed with her, night after night, instead of sleeping in the guest room? Well, he says, you were going through a divorce and your husband was sleeping in the same bed as you. Yes, I said, but I asked him not to, I slept in my daughters’ rooms, my girls slept in my bed so he could be elsewhere. (Why am I explaining anything to him? It’s not the same. You get into bed with your wife every night and want to know if I want you to be with me? Get out of her bed, get out of her house. Be a man. Grow up.) So, he asks, tell me what you’ve been thinking. And I say, now is not a good time for you. Call me when you have time to talk. Two and a half hours later, he called to tell me that he was meeting a friend to “talk to him about what’s going on” and that he would call me in the morning. Ok. Fuck you.
I’m floundering. I don’t know what to do, but I do know what to do. He should leave. He should stay. I could tell him to come to me. I could tell him to stay where he is.
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